


Someone to Hold You Too Close, Someone to Know You Too Well

by The28thAurora



Series: Fate, Let My Arrow Fly [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Arranged Marriage, Awkward First Times, Awkward Sex, Ben Solo Can Cook, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Ben is Eros, Discussing Greek Philosophers, Explicit Language, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Greek Palace-Living, Human/Monster Romance (but not really), Impromptu Weddings, Inexperienced, Inexperienced but Beautiful, Inspired by Eros and Psyche (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Invisible Boyfriend Ben Solo, Invisible Fiancé Ben Solo, Leia is implied to be Aphrodite, Literal Bed Sharing, Literal Sleeping Together, Making Love, Mediterranean Cuisine, Mild Language, Mutual Masturbation, Oracle-Endorsed Marriage, Painful first times, Poe and Finn are Rey's overprotective brothers, Rey Needs A Hug (Star Wars), Rey is a princess, See the original Eros/Psyche myth for further explanation, Star Wars Characters as Greek Gods, Star Wars Characters as Greek Heroes, The God of Love is a Shy Virgin, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Quantities of Pet Names, Touch-Starved Ben Solo, Touch-Starved Rey (Star Wars), Touch-Starved Romantics, Until I Met You, Virgin Ben Solo, Virgin Rey (Star Wars), Wedding, Wedding Night, cuddles and love, everyone is lonely, learning to love, sweet smut, they are trying their best okay?, unlucky in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-22 01:53:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30031224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The28thAurora/pseuds/The28thAurora
Summary: Princess Rey has had difficulty making connections all her life. Her beauty tends to be more curse than blessing, driving people to worship her like a goddess instead of love her like a human being.She's about to give up hope, when Delphi's Oracle assures her she will find love...in the arms of a rich and powerful monster even the Gods fear.She decides to take a leap of faith, and go meet her ordained betrothed.An Eros & Psyche AU, now in 3 Parts!
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Fate, Let My Arrow Fly [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2209230
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	Someone to Hold You Too Close, Someone to Know You Too Well

It was at the moment that Rey stood on the cliff edge, feeling chilled despite the yards of linen cloak wrapped over her arms and back, hair buffeted by the frigid breeze, that she realized the whole situation was mad.

Was she seriously expecting the West Wind to just zip by the cliff and ferry her off to her one true love?

Certainly the Oracle of Delphi had never been wrong before. But the very concept that the love of her life would turn out to be a noble of incalculable wealth, and also a monster so terrible even the Gods feared him?

Hearing the prophecy in the dark, glimmering, dripping cave, the Oracle framed by the blinding pyre akin to the fires of Tartarus, voice booming like Zeus' thunderbolts, had utterly stolen the breath from her chest.

But now, standing and freezing on the cliff-side, far removed from the Oracle's aura of awe and terror, Rey could see the absurdity for what it was. A princess she may be, but she was no hero. Grand prophecies like the one she had received did not come about for mere mortals, not without first asserting some God-given gift that would mark them as worthy of a great destiny.

It was easier to accept that it had all been a great mistake, and go home before her toes froze, exposed to the elements as they were by her leather sandals.

A faulty prophecy was an easier pill to swallow, even if it meant the bitter taste of living a life alone would never leave her mouth now.

Time and time again, any admirer or companion that had come to close had been blinded by her beauty and began to worship her as if she were a Goddess walking the earth. First her childhood friend, towheaded Bubo Aet, had fallen head over heels for her. It was only after he saw that he had no chance – Rey's pleading for a return to their friendship of old making plain she would never have the same romantic inclinations as he – that he left for Athens, seeking a new life among the scholars and academia.

Her recent prospect for marriage had been much the same. General Hux had been kind at first, if a bit distant. But the more he got to know her, the more doe-eyed and besotted he'd become. He no longer viewed her or treated her like a person, and he never gave her a moment's peace. And who could hope to enter a marriage optimistically when one's fiancé treats their betrothed like Narcissus did his reflection in the lake?

It simply wasn't natural.

As such, Rey had sense enough to have acknowledged, long ago, that she was cursed with beauty that could melt the mind and distort all conception of sense. To her great despair, she was unlovable, except by her fiercely loyal brothers Poe and Finn. But they were the sole exceptions, and starting to court and be engaged themselves. In a few short years, they'd be heads of new households, consumed with their own unique duties, while she stayed behind in Delphi to rule in solitude.

But sticking to the aching knowledge that she would never find the genuine love was lighter fair than the gaping, fatal wound in her chest that would be the result of having her hopes dashed again.

Rey was on the cusp of turning to leave, when something stayed her cold feet.

The source of the stubbornness dawned on her.

_Try as I might, I cannot cast aside my hope completely. To love and be loved is too wonderful a dream, a desire I've held and yearned for too long to give up just yet._

“Just one minute more,” Rey spoke softly to the gradually calming breeze. “One minute more and I'll abandon my hopes forever, content to live alone.”

She nearly fell off the cliff in shock, when not forty seconds later, a gossamer, glimmering white form appeared in the breeze. A great, muscular man, with long hair growing down his back in a hearty mane, beamed at her, chiton and cloak secured tight at his waist and shoulder by a great many pins.

“Good day, Princess Rey! I have come to deliver you unto your fiancé!” the West Wind greeted, in a booming, whooping sort of voice that reminded her of a gale tearing over the hilly countryside.

Rey gawked, no doubt looking like a fish out of water.

“Truly, great Zephyr?” Rey stuttered, just remembering her manners, and how sensitive the egos of the Gods were prone to being.

“By the river Styx, I speak the truth.” Zephyr's smile softened with a bit of solemnity, but did not disappear completely as he raised his right hand. “Are you ready to take your leave?” he asked, gesturing with one arm into the great beyond of the icy blue sky, wispy cirrus clouds forming the vaguest of landmarks in the distance.

“I am, oh swift one, but...might I ask if you know of my betrothed's character?”

Zephyr grinned, eyes softening.

“He is an old friend of mine. We go back centuries.”

“Then, if you would be so kind as to answer a few queries about my betrothed as we go? I wish to know something about the man I am to marry, even if the Oracle promises true love is in my path with him.”

Zephyr flew a lap around her like an overeager whirlwind, and plucked her from the ground as if she was light as a feather.

“Gladly, your Highness,” he said, grasping her in his arms like a bride as he levitated them both a foot off the ground “Now, hold tight!”

Rey, heart leaping into her throat, threw her arms around the God's shoulders, locked her fingers in a white-knuckled grip, and watched and as the world dissolved around them, their travel across continents and over oceans so impossibly swift that the earth looked little more than a canvas of melting, dripping, technicolor pigments.

~*~*~*~

“So, let me see if I have this all correct. He's physiologically close to me in age – though he's millennia old where demi-gods are concerned. He likes books, and reads up on everything he can concerning the sciences, philosophy, and art. He likes his privacy, but he's a fine head-of-house, and he's kind?” Zephyr nodded.

“All present and correct, your Highness. And I've met many a demi-god on my travels, Princess, and he quite one of the most understanding and gentle among them I've had the pleasure of knowing.”

Rey hummed in a curious, noncommittal sort of way.

Kind though he may be, but the measure of kindness for a monster might prove to be a very different scale than the one human's used.

But if the Oracle said it would be love, was the risk not worth it?

Regardless, Zephyr had flown quite a bit slower for the past few minutes. The sun was beginning to set, they'd flown so far from Greece. The sky was now tinged with vivid pink, violet, and golden hues. Surely, they had to be close, by now.

“Hang on, Princess Rey. We're beginning our descent!” Her suspicion correct, she clawed her hands into Zephyr's cloak again, and swallowed her scream as the clouds exploded away from them with the force of their jet stream, and the earth rushed up to meet them.

Mere feet from utter annihilation, Zephyr pulled up short and daintily set Rey on her feet, swaying on the spot from surprise and the pins-and-needles sensation in her legs.

“ _Ohpft_ – my apologies, Princess!” blustered Zephyr, offering her his elbow for support. Taking the God's pearlescent arm, Rey took her first glance at her future home.

Before them was a verdant forest, thick with vegetation and vines, and trees of every imaginable shape and sized, thick-trunked and tall, casting a jungle like canopy over the corners of the marble palace just ahead of them.

The squat, broad building reminded her starkly of the Acropolis back home, and reassured her that her demi-god fiancé at least spoke the same language as she. A wide, pediment-shaped roof was held aloft by many thick columns, Corinthian-capped, with grape vines trailing down in tresses a bit longer than was in fashion. Two great bronze double-doors stood sentry at the top of the grand marble stairs, and Rey walked up their wide berth in trepidation.

Once they were under the porch's cover, Zephyr unlinked their arms, and nodded his head in deference.

“This is where I leave you, Princess Rey. Your fiancé awaits you within.” Rey curtsied, deep and elegant, lowering her gaze in a manner that would have enchanted a mere mortal – so long and sweeping were her lovely eyelashes.

“Thank you, oh swift West Wind, for delivering me safely here.”

“It was a pleasure, Princess.”

Zephyr's voice grew fainter as he spoke, and by the time he finished his goodbye, his corporeal form had already whistled away, trailing a whirling gale behind him.

Readjusting her hairband that kept her curls from falling into her eyes, and saving her elaborate up-do from the disarray of air travel, Rey took a breath for courage, and with the slightest nudge, the bronze doors creaked open before her.

A large oculus in center of the entrance hall afforded ample light to see by, illuminating the statues of Gods lining the walkway that lead deeper into the palace, the dramatic stances and gestures of the muscular and curvaceous forms directing Rey's eyes to the indoor gardens to the east and west wings, the trickling of water in a basin fountain and the coquettish whistling of birds putting her right at ease. Beyond the hall was a long corridor lined with windows, dusk slanting into the maze of rooms within.

“Hello, my dear,” spoke a deep voice.

Rey yelped, starting and glancing left and right, to no avail.

“Where-”

“Just in front of you, sweetheart.” Rey's eyes shot towards the source of the penetrating baritone voice, brows turning up in bewilderment.

“...Is that you, my betrothed?” Rey asked, hesitant. A hearty chuckle was the response, warm and calming after her fright.

“Yes, it is I. You may call me Ben, if it pleases you. A pleasure to meet you at last, Princess Rey.”

“But...I thought-”

“You were expecting someone else?”

Rey stepped forward, cautiously.

“Forgive me if I come across as disrespectful, Ben,” she mused, trying out the weight of her fiancé's name on her tongue. “But...it's just that I did expect to _see_ my future husband upon my arrival.”

“...I'm afraid that will not be possible.”

The warmth in his tone had chilled.

“For the preservation of your own sound mind, I have concealed myself from sight with enchantments. Under my roof, you are to be my wife in all but title – until we are wed, of course. As such, there is nothing I will not deny you, with one sole exception,”

He must have leaned in closer, because Rey could feel the demi-god's warm breath on her face.

“You are forbidden from seeing my face and form, and must swear that you will not attempt to remove the guise of invisibility, nor try to persuade me to unveil in any way.”

“I...I see,” she stammered.

Rey was decidedly shocked by the command, but all the same, she'd heard of Gods and demi-gods alike demanding much worse from mortals who dared cross paths with them. And being unable to see her fiancé, though it posed a few challenges and was a discomforting notion, was undoubtedly a tame request in comparisons to others spoken of in cautionary tales.

“Am I correct in my guess that if I do not acquiesce to this command, our courtship will be ended?” Rey asked, voice breathy, for the sake of possessing the full picture.

“...You will be asked to leave the palace, and we will go our separate ways, never to see each other again...” Ben said, somberly “Though...I sincerely wish it be otherwise. That you might stay, and we would get acquainted with one another...”

When she was no longer shocked by his voice coming from nowhere, his dulcet, low tones were so full of honesty and delicate hope, that Rey couldn't imagine a more beautiful voice.

It was a little like holding a mirror up to her own loneliness.

“I swear it.”

A little laugh of relief.

“Splendid! If you would be so kind as to join me for a tour of the palace?” Rey smiled, a small one. He seemed so kind. Dare she hope?

“Yes. Gladly!”

~*~*~*~

Their tour began with the first floor, and the most incredible evening meal she'd ever eaten.

The long, low banquet table was heavily laden with honeyed wine, chilled spring-water, succulent cooked fowl, all manner of spiced seafood, goat's and ewe's cheese, fine white bread, olives, and lentil stew.

Ben pulled out her chair for her, and whatever she wished to fill her plate floated up from its spot on the table and levitated over to her. The pair dined in quiet ease until she was sated, and at the meal's end, Ben managed to tempt her to have one more bite of food – the sweetest fig in existence – for dessert.

The palace's ground floor was filled to the brim with secret alcove gardens, little plinths for devotional idols, and tiny side corridors that lead to hidden treasures: aviaries and menageries, home to exotic creatures she'd only read about in books, or displays of tapestries and opulent armor and weaponry, and even secondary closets packed with luxurious clothes from far off lands made in impossible fabrics. The hundreds of sconces that lined the marble walls caught flame of their own accord as the hour grew late and the halls turned dark.

Ben made a point of showing her the library, the shelves packed with scrolls in dozens of languages. The fully-stocked bath house was complete with internal plumbing, the dance halls were trimmed in bronze and gold. The sitting room was furnished with the most sumptuous couches and lounge chairs – Ben's quiet chuckles evolving into full-bellied laughter at the sight of her wide-eyed fascination with each new room (especially when Rey through herself bodily onto a chaise lounge with a squeal).

Within less than two hours, Rey had every confidence that she would be well tended to and want for nothing.

“Now then, it is getting late. I'll show you to your room?” Ben asked, a calm, warm presence at her elbow, in spite of his transparency.

“Yes. I am feeling quite tired after all the day's excitement,” Rey said, yawning even as she tried to smile politely.

Her demi-god fiancé lead her up a flight of square marble stairs. On the upper landing there were only a handful of rooms, none of which were concealed behind doors, only privacy curtains – the bedrooms and guest rooms. They turned down the left-hand corridor and walked past three doorways.

“This one is yours,” Ben said, the violet curtain parted by an unseen arm, and Rey stepped inside, finding the square room with the sturdy sleeping pallet and soft blankets cozy and comfortable at first sight. However, the size of the sleeping pallet gave her pause.

“I'll let you get settled, my dear. If you need anything at all, I'm at the opposite end of the corridor.”

Oh. That was why it was on the smaller side. He wouldn't be joining her.

“Thank you for the tour, Ben. The beauty of your home...honestly renders me speechless,” Rey said, padding into her room, and whirling around to seat herself on the edge of the pallet.

“Thank you, sweetheart, you're very kind.” The warmth in this demi-god's voice...it could cleave through her flesh and bones and impale her right in her soul...

“But a palace is but a fancy prison when one lives alone...”

And now his soft despair threatened to break her heart.

“Truly? It's just the two of us here?” A sudden sound, Ben starting or quickly taking breath.

“Rey – please understand the last thing I wish is the press you for anything! Oracle's Prophecy or no, I would never presume that you are mine to command; quite the opposite-!”

Rey jumped to her feet, loosened cloak falling from her shoulders at last after a day of being yanked around.

“No, no!! That's not what I was speaking of at all! I was commiserating...you truly have no one in your life?”

A quiet moment, and then Ben's voice seemed to her ears a bit closer than the seven paces to the doorway.

“My mother, I suppose. But she is a very severe, intimidating woman. She has the ability to make slaves of kings, and bend even the most stubborn to her will. I consider her more mistress than matron.”

“Than...you are even more alone than I.”

A quiet pause, tentative.

“...Truly?”

“In Delphi, the only people I could rely on were my brothers. Only they saw me as I was. All others who I welcomed into my life, be it mentors, or staff, or potential matches, sooner or later, all become besotted with something I was not. They saw me as something greater than my mortal form, thought me divine. They...forgot how to see me...”

A huff of breath ghosted her cheek.

“Fate is a funny thing. I too have been unlucky in love. A similar...worship tended to come about the longer I stayed with a courting partner. Ironic, how fate should decide our place is to be with each other.”

“Well...” Rey mused, feeling sorry for this monster, and finding it difficult to believe that he could truly be as dangerous as the Oracle had claimed, even after just a few short hours. “No longer, Ben. Though I hesitate to have hope in the Oracle's prophecy, I promise to be your companion and compatriot, no matter what may come of fate.”

A laugh, elated and fragile.

“Princess Rey...you're a wonderfully kind soul...” Warm weights settled at her shoulder and opposite cheek. The contact electrified her bare skin with its suddenness, and she jumped back in surprise.

Silence followed, ominous and cold.

“...I'm sorry. I should not have done that. It's too soon. Far too soon.” He already felt chastened, if his aggrieved tone was any indication, and he had the nerve to verbally chastise himself further...

“Ben – no! It's alright. I was merely caught unawares!” Rey exclaimed, panicked and pursuing a fiancé she could not see.

She collided with a wall of muscle, and was caught in two of the sturdiest, corded arms she'd ever felt.

Ben slowly righted her, and Rey's heartbeat stuttered as her fingers traced over his triceps and parted from him once they'd reached his shoulders. The moment she was back on her feet, he began to pull away, but Rey seized his hands before he could get very far.

“Perhaps if we tried again?” she asked, smile gentle and sincere, Ben's breathing sounding obstructed to her ears, hitching slightly.

Rey settled his large palms back where they had been, one on her right shoulder, the other on her left cheek, and let herself just _feel_. Five fingers, five knuckles, five fingernails on each. Wrists and a swift pulse beating within them. His palms were lined, fingers soft and uncalloused.

For a monster, he had awfully human hands.

After a moment, she let herself lean into his contact with her cheek, savoring the warmth she felt there, the incredible comfort this simple, tepid touch provided. A previously frozen thumb stroked a soft, subtle pattern on her cheek and she grinned, face pinking.

“You needn't be afraid of touching me, Ben,” she said, looking roughly towards the spot where she thought his eyes might be. “But if I am forbidden from seeing you, I insist you ask before you reach out. Just so I don't die of fright.”

His chuckle was low, deep, reverberating, jubilant. The sound filled her body with a rush of warmth from the top of her crown to the tips of her toes, and her stomach seemed to delight in hearing it with how much it jumped and flutter.

Rey was confident then, that no matter what happened, all would be well.

~*~*~*~

“Ah, Plato's Dialogues.”

First thing after breakfast, Rey had rushed off the library, filled her arms to bursting with a collection of scrolls, and brought them into the sitting room to browse through, reclined on a couch.

“After years of hearing about his philosophy, I finally get to explore the text myself!” she beamed in the direction she thought to have heard Ben's voice coming from.

“Hrrrmmm...” Ben grumbled, wandering closer, footfalls heavy and obvious. “As Princess of Delphi, were you not provided a well-rounded education?”

A divot formed in the couch across from her, the hollow marking the place her betrothed had filled.

“Not in mathematics and philosophy. Mostly political science, etiquette, conflict resolution, that sort of thing.” Rey sat up and assumed the posture of her stuffy, inordinately rotund regent and tutor, Unkar Plutt. “As my instructor always said, _princesses need not know how the laws of nature work to bend a populous to their will and collect taxes_.”

Rey faux-gagged, and turned back to the scrolls, continuing to absorb the contents of the text.

“He sounds a perfectly vile creature,” Ben griped. Rey shrugged, eyes still roving over the Greek letters.

“It's just not what's done in Delphi's royal house. Why would I need to understand everything about the world when my husband will be there to take care of that piece for me?” she concluded, words dripping with sarcasm.

Ben snarled, a disgusted, affronted sound. It almost frightened her with its fierceness.

“Fine, then. If your near-sighted mortal world cannot offer the scholarly dialogue you deserve to have, than I will.” The divot vanished from the couch, taps on the marble signaling that Ben had stood. “Call for me when you've read through the Dialogues and the central tenets of Aristotle's work.”

By the time her stomach had begun to grumble for her midday meal, Rey had voraciously devoured precisely that amount of philosophy.

“I mean it's just _fascinating_ ,” Rey muttered around her mouthful of chickpea and bean soup, “They seem to have such insight into the world around them and how it all works – and not just in their theories on politics and economics, but in their understanding of the natural world as well!”

Ben chortled encouragingly from the table's opposite end, clearly more absorbed in her speech than in eating, as his place seating was hardly the flurry of food and cutlery it had been the other day.

“And whose theory do you find to be more sound, concerning human nature, Plato or Aristotle? Are there truly ideal forms?” Though Ben asked the question with a cheeky lilt in his voice, Rey knew he would genuinely valued the answer she gave.

She mused, twirling her spoon in her hand absentmindedly.

“In a way...I think they are both correct.”

“Really?” Ben asked, surprised, but not displeased.

“I don't think that there are ideal forms – I find Aristotle's conjecture that matter and form are both concrete things of the physical world to be more sensible. However, Plato's understanding of the soul, that we have a predisposition for something...mayhaps not knowledge, but a dream-like conception of self before we are born, and the existence of an afterlife, that I also find to ring true.”

“Why, pray-tell?”

Ben's affectionate musing made her heart flutter, so soothing and charming was its tone.

“Certainly, having met a God for the first time yesterday was a start.” Ben guffawed. “And how could the Oracle have delivered her prophecy without some predetermined knowledge of who you and I might become?”

“Well...she could have just guessed...”

“ _Ben!_ That's dreadful! Don't tease about that!”

But based on his boisterous laughter, he was perfectly content to make light of the decisive prophecy that had brought them here.

“...Well then,” her fiancé continued, once his laughter had calmed “What say you we discuss Pythagoras and Socrates in the coming days? I feel I must warn you that Plato's writings on Socrates are dense, even compared to Plato's own literature, and are not always the most stimulating read.”

Rey's smile was positively exuberant.

“I'd like that very much...”

~*~*~*~

In exploring the hidden hallways further, Rey managed to find a new surprise most every day. Taking a wrong turn on the way to breakfast one morning, Rey stumbled upon a sunlight space that made her gasp.

The mirrored room beyond was dotted with dainty cream-colored pillars, on which sat mauve, down-stuffed pillows, supporting golden instruments. They all seemed to glow in the sunlight, the mirrors next to the marble supports doing wonders to heighten the effect of the ethereal aura. She noted a pan pipe, a flute, a lute, a set of drums, and a stringed instrument with a horsehair bow that no doubt had been traded from the east, when a lyre caught her eye.

Rey approached the instrument as if it might bite her if she wasn't careful, delicately lifting the arm-length heart-shaped frame and setting it in the crook of her arm. She plucked the strings softly, with varying degrees of volume and success, flinching when the sound came out harsher than she expected.

She let her fingers flutter over the strings lightly, creating a softer, rippling affect that she found more successful on the whole. It was like listening to birdsong on the wind in the gardens, and Rey floated in the sound's stream.

A knock at the door frame threw her from her reverie.

“Good morning, Ben,” she said, glancing at the door, even though she couldn't see him.

“Good morning, dearest.”

Rey smiles quirked higher at the endearment.

In spite of learning how stubborn she could be from yesterday's debate surrounding Heraclitus' unity of opposites, he still called her by these endearments. Rey wondered often whether she should call him by some of her own, but she decided now it was better not to force the occurrence.

If he felt dear enough to her, she'd surely call him something other than his name sooner or later, naturally, and without second thought.

“Have you played before?” he asked, sidling up to her left side.

“Ha! Not hardly! Though I've always wanted to learn,” she tossed over the shoulder she knew him to be standing by.

“I can teach you...if you like.”

So it was that they fell into something of a routine.

In mornings following breakfast, Rey would read up on her philosopher of the day. They'd discuss theorems over midday meal, and have debates surrounding philosophy in the afternoon. After a light evening meal, Ben would teach her lyre in the music room until just before sunset, when they'd often part ways; Rey going to the baths to unwind and cleanse herself, or to her rooms to sometimes weave, but mostly to ponder and to dream.

Her request for a loom had surprised Ben, to be sure.

“Am I wrong in my assumption that weaving is normally servants work, Rey?”

“It is...” Rey admittedly, hesitantly. “But it was the one skill my mother taught me before her untimely passing, and it helps steady me, keeps me grounded and secure.”

And thus, the very next evening, she'd found a wide loom and a basket filled with spools of thread in every imaginable color waiting for in her bedroom, along with the most comfortable and supportive, padded chair – a far cry from her rickety wooden stool with one leg shorter than the rest back home.

The change began because of her.

She'd been laying on a couch, reviewing Socrates' theories on the divine, when she heard a cough somewhere in the room behind her.

“Yes, Ben?”

“Sorry, just...curious as to what you're reading at the moment.”

“Plato's _Apology_ , to brush up on Socrates.” She sighed. “And here I thought it might be easy to distinguish the one philosopher from the other – until I realized Socrates had no writings of his own.”

“Come to think of it, I haven't read his thoughts on divinity in some time. Do you mind if I read over your shoulder?”

“Not at all.”

Some minutes passed in silence before Rey became perplexed by the lack of breath near her shoulder, and glanced around, only to scoff at the sight of dip that had formed at the opposite end of the couch.

“Ben, you can't serious,” she said, chiding gently.

“Sorry, my dear?”

“You can't possibly read over my shoulder from all the way over there! Please, come sit next to me!” she said, sitting up and shifting to the side to make space for Ben, patting the unoccupied space at her right side.

“Very well...”

A warm weight came to rest at her hip, bending the couch cushions underneath him. Rey held the scroll a bit more aloft so he might see it better, and she felt a finger and thumb grip the right side of the scroll. Smiling to herself, she read on, finding the company pleasant.

But as the afternoon hour grew later, and her lunch began to settle densely in her stomach, with the warmth of the sitting room, Rey began to tire. Though she continued to fight her sleepiness, she eventually sat less and less upright, until her back collided with the muscles of Ben's chest, strong torso clothed by a linen tunic.

He gasped in surprise.

“Sorry,” Rey muttered groggily, sitting up again “the room's far too warm for reading, and the yellowfin tuna and white wine were _so_ delicious-”

“It's quite alright, Rey...” The kind murmur at her ear perked her right up. Ben had never been this close to her before, but she could hardly argue the proximity displeased her. He was so sturdy and warm, and his voice so sweet...

She leaned back against him, resting firmly in the space between his hip and his shoulder, and let the warmth of her fiancé's chest sink deep into her skin.

“If I fall asleep from sheer comfort, promise me you won't let the scroll fall?”

“Promise...”

His whisper against her crown made her shiver with delight.

From then on, there were little things.

A brush against her shoulder when he pushed in her chair at meals. A grasp of her hand in congratulations when she made a very well-reasoned argument during scholarly debates.

He had a tendency to give her wrist a gentle squeeze before they parted for the night, or to sometimes be so bold as to tuck a fly-away hair behind her ear. Those tiny gestures made her blush particularly fervently.

And when she struggled with the lyre, he'd set his seemingly floating, matching instrument on his chair, and come stand at her side, directing her hands with his own, helping her untrained fingers find the shape of the cords.

Those were full-body experiences. He was close enough then to smell – rosewater and sandalwood and oak with a sprig of peppermint. He was warm and gentle, fingers resting over top of hers, though his hands were easily twice the size of hers.

Through repeated instances of reading together on the chaise lounge, she had grasped that he was quite tall. His knees rested at the couches' edge, the line falling at mid-calf for her. He was at least a head taller than her in height, the top of her head usually connecting with his shoulder, or collarbone, if she slouched against him. She felt the tickle of hair against her neck once or twice – a trim beard, or long hair?

She was determined to learn as much as she could, even with the shroud of invisibility her fiancé carted around with him.

And as the days stretched into weeks, the Oracle's cautionary words of monstrosity grew ever distant as the stirrings and flames within her became far more tangible. Ben plainly saw her temper, her kindness, her boldness, her humor, even on the most perfect, and most difficult days.

His endearment was like a sweetness she could almost taste if she shut her eyes and reached for it in her mind.

Then, after ages spent fumbling and stumbling through cords and rhythms and patterns and keys, Rey finally succeeded in playing “Orpheus' Ballad” all the way through without error.

“Yes!!” Ben cheered, setting his lyre down without care “You've got it, Rey!” And in elation, he pulled her to her feet and held her tight in his arms, her toes hovering a scant inch off the ground.

“ _Yes..._ ” Rey thought to herself “ _I think he'll do just fine..._ ” She blindly found the nook between his neck and shoulder and burrowed into that little space, fingers splayed at his neck and finding that, yes, his hair did curl an inch or two below his nape.

A soft sound, like a breath or gasp, puffed out by her ear.

Ben was quick to return her to the earth, but what followed she could not have expected.

“Shall we dance to it, then?” Rey's and Ben's forgotten lyres began to duet “Orpheus' Ballad” from their spots on their abandoned chairs – though Ben's hands stayed right at her waist.

Magic of their own accord, then.

“Yes!” said Rey, startled into affirmation by her glee, quite forgetting that she knew little about dancing.

In the empty quadrant in the center of the music room, Ben set his hands on the small of her back, and began to turn them round in a whirling circle that quickly made her giddy. He turned her under his arm, only to press his palm to her back, swiftly circling so that she wouldn't accidentally step on his unseen feet.

They stepped towards one another, palms meeting, back and apart in a rhythm that was reminiscent of ocean tides. They returned to their fast orbit by the song's bridge. At one point, he hefted her into her arms, and twirled her around, one arm supporting her shoulders, the other wrapped beneath knees.

Rey laughed, heart and soul celebrating their abandon equally.

By the song's end, Ben drew so close she could sense his exhalation, quick and elated. And for the tiniest moment, she thought...

“Night comes on more swiftly these days. I'll...I'll let you take your rest early. So you can...savor the daylight tomorrow.”

Rey tried not to feel too disappointed.

“Very well.”

“Might I walk you to bed?” he quickly asked. A spark of hope. She brazenly offered him her hand to hold.

“Gladly,” Rey said, when his fingers earnestly wrapped around hers.

The walk to the top of palace, shadows stretching beneath orange, glimmering torchlight, was like walking through a haze of blissful peace.

She hated relinquishing Ben's hand, her sweet monster's hand, at her doorway.

“Goodnight, Ben,” she said softly, perhaps disclosing a bit of her despondence.

“Goodnight...”

He sounded distracted, not unlike when he was buying time during a debate to formulate his argument fully.

Then his large, masculine fingers, tenderly encircled her wrist before she'd fully stepped through her privacy curtain.

His question was so quiet she nearly missed it.

“Could I kiss you?”

Rey turned to face him, heart shivering in trepidation, in wonder.

“Because I would very much like to kiss you, Rey.”

He sounded so breathless, so beautifully yearning, that she could summon no words in response. So instead, she reached towards him until her fingers connected with shoulder and arm and traced up to his neck, to cup his prominent cheekbones, and she stretched up to meet him.

It was gentlest, most tentative kiss he would ever give her. The fragility of it made her nearly weep, and his trembling mouth echoed the sentiments of her heart.

But then his soft lips parted, only to enfold her mouth more fully, more warmly, infinitely more sure, and Rey melted into the rush of sweet _eros_ that swept over her, happily drowning. Because to her senses, that tasted chamomile and pomegranate, and smelled heady sandalwood, and felt the downy curling of Ben's soft hair, it did not seem like drowning.

It seemed more like being set on a plush cloud, far beyond any trouble or pain, and floating along with the blissful wind.

~*~*~*~

Sleep was difficult to come by that night. Not from sheer excitement, or exultant joy, but because Rey insisted Ben stay by her side and sit on her pallet with her, wanting to discover every delightful, shivering, electrifying manner of kiss they could share.

She was quite drunk off the taste of lips and tongue, as was he, if the soft gasps and low, yearning murmurs that tore from his chest were any indication. Rey desired nothing more than to be wrapped as tightly in her betrothed's birch branch arms as she could be, and for a time, her betrothed obliged.

A few hours into the dark of the next day, Ben insisted he let her get some sleep.

“I promise, my dear, I will still be here to kiss tomorrow.”

“But it isn't fair!” Rey whined petulantly. “Whenever I want to kiss you out of the blue I'll have to ask! I can't seek you out like you can me! You can just sneak up on me and kiss me whenever it pleases you.”

Ben's chortle seeped into her dreaming mind, as she already began to drift off.

“Then I shall always ask you for permission, sweetheart, until you tire of me asking the question.”

And he did. Even for mere pecks of her temple or coddles of her cheek.

It took less than a day for Rey to insist he no longer ask when the kisses weren't fixed on her lips.

If anything, that only encouraged him further.

There were kisses against her bare shoulders when he leaned over her chair-back and lead her fingers in new chords on the lyre. Full, warm, honey-tinted caresses to say goodnight. Pecks that made her giggle with their effervescence, a greeting at morning meal. Nuzzles and smooches against cheek and neck as they read philosophy together that left her feeling boneless with content.

So it was that when his business interfered with the pattern of their days, Rey's light, floating heart drooped a bit.

“I have to write out some letters – to family and senators alike. I'm afraid I won't be able to debate today, my dearest. But I promise I'll make time for at least a brief duet before the day's end.” Rey sighed, but relented.

“Very well. There is no shortage of wonders to occupy my attention.”

As she turned to go, leaving Ben at his writing desk, quick footsteps pursued her, and he caught her wrist in the door frame. Her gasp of surprise was suddenly smothered against pillowy lips that soothed and apologized.

“Please understand, Rey; if I let you join me while I scribe, I doubt I would be able to get anything done!” he said, voice hinting at exuberant laughter. Rey flushed with pleasure, her heart lifting right back up, and molded her lips adoringly against his, deciding a day apart was a small price to pay.

Thumbs smoothed against unseen, sharp cheekbones when she parted for breath.

“I understand completely. I'll see you later, my dear.”

Her smile only grew when she realized that was her first endearment for him.

And Ben's exhaling stutter of awe just about made her take flight.

Rey occupied the afternoon with exploring, experimenting with the fashions from far away countries found tucked away in the secondary, walk-in closets. On the whole, she still preferred her tunic – but the jewel-toned saris, heavenly-soft kimonos, and superbly pleated Egyptian stoles quite infatuated her heart as well. In the end, she settled with a pale pink tunic in the older peplos style that accentuated her waist, and tied her hair up in an elegant knot, securing it with a jeweled comb.

She went to the aviary, whistling along merrily with the songs of the macaws, parrots, thrushes and doves. A bold partridge in particular took up residence on her shoulder for a time, and even allowed her to lightly stroke its head, when she echoed his song perfectly.

The menagerie, by comparison, was less of a sanctuary and more of a tentative place of study. Rey, knack that she had with animals, knew better than to get too close to the tigers and snow leopard. The young hunting dog from Egypt was another matter, however, jumping all over her new tunic, making her only too happy to have him chase down sticks and fallen fruit from the date trees when he was made so ecstatic by something so simple.

As the day ebbed away, the peacock crossed her path, picking at the cobblestone, and the lion shook out his mane and settled his great head on his paws for a nap.

All seemed quiet and settled when a cry shattered the silence.

An adolescent wolf burst from the underbrush, running with its tail between his legs. Something had taken a nasty swipe at his ear, and after consoling the poor creature and bandaging his wound with one of her arm bands, Rey cautiously approached, crawling under the bushes.

“In all my time here, against all logical laws of nature, none of the animals have quarreled or tried to eat one another,” Rey mused, huffing as she wriggled forward on her elbows. “Something unusual must have happened...”

A pair of large blue eyes blinked at her from the dark hollow under the bush.

A lynx, its scruff standing straight up in discomfort and warning. Rey's eyes swept over its body, and sure enough, found her answer.

A nettle was stuck in the beast's hindquarters, just above his backwards knee.

“I see, old hunter. You've run afoul of something that bit that you couldn't bite back...” Rey muttered, blinking slowly at the lynx so he knew she meant no harm. “I'd like to help you, if you'd let me.” The cat sniffed at her, and the hair on its neck fell, settling back into smooth order.

“That's it. I just want to help, and then I'll leave you be...” Rey kept talking to the cat, easing closer, until her hand was inches from his leg, and the beast had thoroughly cataloged her scent, head calmly lowering.

“I'm afraid this will hurt a bit – but after it'll be much better. You're leg won't hurt every time you try to take a step...” She was even able to give the lynx a head scratch, and decided it was now or never.

She seized the nettle burr and tugged, but she was too concerned with being careful and twisting it out. The nasty thing was in deep and she hadn't pulled nearly hard enough. The lynx groaned in pain and agitation.

“Sorry-”

She pulled the nettle hard. The lynx shrieked, claws lashing out, and the cat tore out of the bush.

All the way to the dining hall, arm wrap now covering four, identical gashes that slowly wept blood, Rey kept pressure on the wound and cursed herself.

_If I'd just yanked hard on the first go, everything would've been fine. One jolt of pain and then the beast was have realized its relief, maybe even have been happy for my efforts, BUT NO_ _! I had to be tepid about it..._

Fortunately, at least the dinner table was set when she got there, though from the silence, Ben had yet to join her. Perhaps his letters had taken longer than he'd anticipated. Shame...

“Evening, my darling!” A platter of grapes and figs floated into the room from the kitchen, held aloft by the invisible betrothed in question. “I just managed to finish those insufferable letters-”

The beautiful silver tray crashed to the floor, grapes scattering in every direction.

“Ben-!”

“ _You're bleeding!!_ ”

Rey mildly glanced at her arm, rolling her eyes in frustration.

“The lynx had a burr in his side and I wasn't decisive enough when I first pulled and-”

Faster than she could blink, Rey felt herself being swept off her feet, and suddenly the palace was whipping past her as if she were in flight, the rush of motion and blur of color ending when she was plopped on a large sleeping pallet in a bedroom quite like hers, though in his, a large violet curtain hung above the headboard – likely to make private a small devotional alcove.

Small objects and spare clothes began to fly from the bureau against the far wall.

“ _Damn all the Gods,_ where do I keep these things?!”

“Ben...?” Rey murmured, beyond bewildered.

“ _Ah-ha_ _!_ ” Ben's unseen hands held up a roll of fabric, a towel, and a bottle of alcohol in triumph. She felt the air in the room disturbed as he rushed back to her side and removed her hasty bandage. Ben uncorked the bottle, Rey bracing herself for the stinging liquid that he poured on her wound, a bearable pain, considering she'd felt worse. Once he patted her arm dry, he began to wrap her injury.

The bandaging was firm to stop the blood flow, but Ben's hands were ever so gentle in their ministrations, fingers cradling her wrist as he worked.

Rey's tongue worked to summon up her words of bashful thanks, but a question tumbled from her mouth instead.

“...How did you get me up here so fast?” Ben's wrapping stalled for the briefest of moments.

“It's something of a demi-god talent in my family. We tend to achieve super-human levels of haste when the ones we care for are in danger.”

“It's not a life-threatening wound, Ben,” she teased, gently, trying to still the giddy racing of her heart.

“It should still be properly cleaned and bandaged. Wouldn't want it to be infected,” he muttered, erudite in his actions. He tied the ends of the fabric in a tight knot, palm resting against her forearm as if his touch might expedite the healing process.

“Next time, no matter what I am preoccupied with, call for me if you or any of the animals is in danger. _Please_ , Rey.” His lips pecked the knuckles of her injured hand and Rey's heart swooned. “I couldn't bear it if any harm came to you...”

She lifted his hand to her mouth, courage trembling, and kissed his palm in turn, wishing she could see his face, his eyes, to gauge his reaction.

“Thank you for taking care of me...” His hand grasped her cheek, dwarfing it with his heated palm.

So this was what all the poets and bards had been speaking of...

“Gladly, my darling. Anything for you...”

Something seemed to simmer between them all through dinner and into lyre-playing, but though Rey's every sense was vibrating with eagerness and vigilance, she could not have put a name to it.

It only became clear when it came time to part ways at her doorway. An ache formed in her chest at the thought of crawling into bed alone. She didn't want him to leave.

“Ben...is it not customary for a husband and wife to share a bed chamber...?” she whispered, voice thin with nerves as she held his hand in hers.

“I believe so.” His voice was raw, warbling. She heard him swallow. “Why do you mention it?”

“I think it's something worth trying – to know how we feel about it, before we decide on a union one way or the other...”

Ben's voice was all warm, fluttering air when he spoke.

“...I think I've already made up my mind on that matter...”

Rey's heart nearly stopped.

“Yes?”

Ben's fingers wrapped around both her hands. She felt so cherished, so delicate whenever he held her.

“I would be honored to be your husband...I can't imagine a more wonderful person to share my life with...”

Ben had to catch her by the elbow, as her knees nearly gave out on her.

“Rey?!”

“Fine, just...Ben, you're _remarkable_...” she grinned, filled with mirth. His laughter made his chest shake, even though the sound was a bit teary.

“As are you, my darling Princess...” She thought he was leaning in for a kiss, but his final destination was press his forehead to hers and breathe her in.

Rey trembled like the last leaf on an olive branch during the dry season.

“...I think I still need a bit more time, myself,” she murmured.

“...Oh.” An echo of despair. Oh no, that's not how she had meant it!

“Just-” she grasped his cheek “Just to adjust to the idea completely. I think we make an excellent pair as well, and I adore your company.”

Now he did kiss her, smiling against her lips.

“Then why the invitation into your bed?”

“I don't wish to part from you tonight. I want to hold you in my arms as Morpheus whisks me into dreaming.”

Ben sucked a breath through his teeth, as if wincing.

“Oh. Forgive me, Rey; I misinterpreted your meaning...”

Rey leapt down from her perch in her burly betrothed's arms, covering her bright pink face with her hands.

“Oh Gods!! I'm sorry-!” she chortled “I didn't mean to imply that! Ugh, I can be so foolhardy sometimes-”

“Rey, _Rey_...” Ben chuckled, seizing her hands again, rubbing his thumbs over them gently. “As can I – especially when in so enamored a state...”

Rey smiled at the ground, feeling the need to avert her gaze, even when there was nothing to see.

“...Enamored?” His voice was so deep and tender when he answered, a lover's whisper, and it tied her stomach in heady knots.

“Completely, Rey...” She hid herself in his arms, letting his heat and strong grasp soothe her racing, fervent heart. Once her breathing returned to normal, she slid back to arm's length.

“Give a moment to change into my night-time tunic.”

“Yes – I should, go do the same.”

His nervous laughter certainly helped put her at ease too.

Rey hollered down the hall once she'd changed, and sat on the right side of her pallet, knees up by her chest, waiting, her heartbeat a loud, exuberant staccato. Fortunately, her privacy curtain separating indicated his entrance, wordlessly.

“May I hold you?” he whispered, as two knee-sized valleys appeared on the pallet.

“Oh, please!” Rey breathed, welcoming Ben's embrace as they lay down on the pallet together, her betrothed covering them in a soft blanket.

Every nerve was alive, singing and guttering and beaming with light. She tucked her head in its practiced place between chin and shoulder, his arm encircling her back and shoulders perfectly, and she had to bite back her gasp when she set her hand on his chest and found it mostly bare.

“I tend to run warm at night, so I just wrap a spare tunic around my waist and tie it at one shoulder...”

“Oh...”

Gods, she sounded like a blushing maiden.

“Is this okay?” he asked, taking her hand in his, resting it just over his heart. “I can throw on a cloak if you're uncomfortable?”

“ _No!!_ ”

Rey's face flamed.

“Sorry, that was loud. My heart's just racing in my chest! You're...” she traced the muscles she'd gotten hints of before, sculpted pecs, trim lats, solid abs, and the hardened, protective arms she already knew and loved.

“You're positively _gorgeous_...”

Ben _heaved._

“Thank you, Rey – you're very kind-”

“I'm not exaggerating!”

“No!” Ben chortled “But my heart might burst from my chest, so ferocious you make its beating!!”

“Sorry!!”

His nose playfully coddled her temple, the corner of his smile brushing against it too.

“I suppose it's only fair that we be equally vulnerable to one another...” Rey smiled softly against his neck.

“Beautifully reasoned. Point to you, Ben.” He chuckled at her use of Socratic language, the rumbling tone dragging her under, even as he tilted her head up to kiss him. In the dark, Rey felt bolder, and her hands strayed higher, fingers brushing over neck and head.

She glanced between knowns, sharp jaw and strong cheekbones, to map out unknowns – the shape of his face, the curve of his ears hidden by a curtain of hair, the line of his brow, his aquiline nose. Delicately, she even traced the shape of his eyelids with the pads of her thumbs, planting conciliatory kisses there after for the unexpected intrusion that made him grunt in surprise.

Then she buried her fingers in his mane of wavy locks, and kissed him, deep and ardent, expressing everything she dared not breath into truth in the night air with nibbles and pecks and deep, heated kneading.

That she loved him. Powerful demi-god, monster, or none, she loved him.

It still hurt, in some distant corner of her heart that she would never see her beloved's face, never quite know his form beyond a shadow of a doubt.

But she could bear it happily, when a love this verdant and Elysian was the gift she received in turn.

She bit down a little on the silken bottom lip she so adored, and Ben huffed out a heady groan.

“ _Rey-_ ”

“Forgive me. Epiphany is the most intoxicating wine,” she gasped, slowing her kisses to a gentle tide, eventually coming to a stop altogether.

“Epiphany of what kind? If I might be given the privilege of knowing...”

“An epiphany of belonging. Of comfort and safety and utter, incandescent joy.”

He snuggled closer, as close as they could be, legs entwined, Rey's head shifting to rest on his delectable, hearth-like chest, his heartbeat a soothing rhythm against her ear that already began to rock her to sleep.

“I know exactly what you mean, my love.”

And Morpheus took her flying on wings of night.

~*~*~*~

Rey looked up from her reading to take stock of her situation.

She wasn't quite sure why the analytical mood took her so, but it did, and she let it.

Another week had passed, give or take (she'd lost track of the overall time she'd lived in Ben's palace, and it truly did not matter to her whether she'd been away for five months or two years, which was a good sign in it of itself).

Ben had been a rather good bed companion. He was not much of a snorer, and, insisting he be honest, he assured her she hadn't drooled (much) or hogged the blankets (with one odd exception). He was a gentleman in the morning, waking her with kisses against her crown and a scoundrel (when it suited him) at night, drowning her in luxuriant kisses that made her want to stay up and smother him with _eros_ , in the process of gushing with it herself.

She was sitting out in the gardens, reading Ovid while lounging on a comfy bench. Ben sat at the opposite end, her feet in his lap. One lovely bear-paw of a hand held her left foot in something like a gentle hug.

The sun was just beginning to enter the late afternoon piece of its arc in the sky. The fountains burbled. The birds chirruped and cackled. Her stomach was full with succulent venison, olives, and flat bread, and bittersweet red wine. And she was happy.

“I accept you hand in marriage, Ben.”

He stood up so quickly she nearly toppled off the bench.

“ _Please-tell-me-you're-not-joking!_ ” Ben said, in a rush.

“I would never, Ben. I wish to be your wife!” she grinned, heart skipping in her chest.

A swift peck against her lips that left her a little disappointed, if she was being honest.

“I'LL BE RIGHT BACK!!”

A gale of wind sent the birds into a panic, and nearly turned the garden into chaos, were it not for Rey's reassuring words and soothing whistles to the flock.

Another blast of air that nearly made her tunic fly up over her head, and she turned to face her fiancé with a provocative scowl.

...Except he held aloft a simple, elegant, pearly-white, stone band, delicately carved with floral, leaf, and vine patterns decorating its circumference.

Realization went through her like the shock of touching searing cold water.

“Ben – _now?_ ”

“Why not?!”

“Ah – _hahaha!_ ” Though the spontaneity of it all made her laugh with glee, she had to say her piece. “None of my family is here, there's no priestess, I'm not dressed for it-”

“My love, you've never looked more beautiful than you are in this very moment...”

She had to smile at that, her responding blush no doubt only further proving his point, fetchingly coloring her cheeks.

“And we don't need a priestess. With the Gods as our witnesses, we will state our vows and the deed will be done.”

“...Can we _at least_ invite my brothers here soon? To tell them the news and celebrate?”

A kiss that made her want to melt into his corded arms.

“Absolutely, my sweet goddess!”

And though Rey felt the slightest twinge in her chest at the endearment that many a man and suitor had called her before after becoming obsessed with her, because Ben said it with such a jesting tone, she didn't mind it so much.

“ _Ben_ – that's blasphemy!” Even without seeing him, she knew Ben had thrown back his head to laugh.

“Oh, Rey, just wait until you meet my family! Now, come along!”

He pulled her further into the garden, leading her by her hand into a little clearing, hidden behind brushes and brambles, where a circular stone pavilion framed the space, a decorative dome supported on sturdy columns, the dome's wide oculus leaving them exposed before Helios' light.

Rey's thoughts took a dour turn, just as Ben lead her up the pavilion's circular steps.

“If I take you as my husband, Ben...is there a way...any possible way, sometime in the future – even if takes a long time, or – or a quest, a series of labors! – that I might be allowed to see you?”

“Oh, my dear...”

Ben clasped her face, thumbs massaging an apology into her flushed skin.

“I never wanted to conceal myself from you, please believe me. I'll be truthful with you – it's been a cloak that has hidden me all this time. Gossamer thin, almost impossible to feel or grasp, so its quite difficult to remove. Sharing a bed has been quite helpful, as then I don't have to take it off at night...regardless, the only reason I wore it is because mortals have gone mad at the sight of me before. That and...I wanted you to love me for the content of my character...not my appearance.”

“Sweet Ben...I daresay at this point, I could love you in any form.” Rey gasped, meaning every word. He scrambled for her hands and squeezed them tight.

“Which is exactly why, in accepting my hand in marriage, I make this promise now: I swear on the River Styx that I will make every effort, as soon as possible, to secure a bit of ambrosia and nectar for you – not enough to make you immortal, but enough that your mortal eyes will not be harmed by the sight of me, and I need never wear this cloak again.

“For now, I'm afraid the cloak must stay. Because I would never...ever wish to cause you pain or harm, my dear...” He kissed her knuckles in fervent apology. “Do you understand, my love?”

“Yes, my darling. I do. I'm bewildered, and a bit stunned, but I understand, and I respect your wishes,” Rey said, breathing deep and nodding, both as indication she assented, and to steady herself.

Ben pulled her up the rest of the way, and they stood on the dais, facing each other.

“Repeat after me, love. 'With the strength of Zeus, King of Gods, and the grace of Hera, Queen of Heavens, I proclaim, on this day, my bond to thee.'”

Rey echoed the vows.

“'Forever more, I am thy servant, partner, joy, and light. I promise to provide,' and you say you promise progeny,”

Rey did, face a twinge closer to scarlet. But she knew such expectations came with marriage and vows, and she was ready for them.

Ben slipped the stone band onto her finger, the smooth surface cool to the touch.

“'We shall ennoble and love one another until we part to meet again in the Elysian fields.' I, E-erm, Ben, take thee as my wife.”

“I, Rey, take thee as my husband-!”

And she breathlessly leapt into his arms to kiss him, her husband's moan of delight becoming lodged in his throat.

~*~*~*~

After dinner, Rey found her nerves only skyrocketed further. Being wed to her Ben was a joy and a blessing, but she was dreading the task that came with weddings, and wedding nights...

Considering how quiet Ben had been while they ate, Rey could at least take comfort in the idea he was likely in a similar state. Ben had been a generous courtier and romantic partner – but bold and brash, he was not.

In regards to child-bearing and rearing, Rey's education had not been lacking. Concerning conception however, Rey'd had strictly drilled into her the doctrine that she remain a maiden until wed, had been told the essential mechanics of copulation – and little else. And while she'd heard rumors from her brothers and their friends that, under certain circumstances, sexual intercourse could be quite enjoyable, from her maids and court she'd heard only stories of hurried and painful couplings.

So it was that she stood in her bedroom doorway filled with dread.

Well...Ben had said if she needed anything, and that he never wanted to cause her pain...

“Ben...I'm scared.”

He cupped her cheek so tenderly, soothing her with his soft, low voice.

“Sweetheart, don't be. There's no reason to be, not with me. We'll take this at _your_ pace, my love.” His breath grew closer, warmer. “I want this to be pleasurable for you as well.” A kiss that made her shoulders relax. “Even if I know only little on the matter...”

Rey stepped past her billowing privacy curtain, pulling Ben in after her.

“Well, so long as you know what goes where, I think we'll be alright!” she joked. Ben's laughter burbled forth like a geyser.

“ _Rey!_ I hope you don't think _so_ little of me, darling! I have been studying human anatomy quite seriously these past few weeks. And a healthy portion of Ovid's romantic poetry too...”

Rey bit her bottom lip.

“Any...particular reason?” His lips suddenly began to kiss a path from lips to cheek to jaw, steadily down to her neck, pleased tingles rolling over her shoulders.

“Hope, and boat-load of optimism,” he said, voice taking on a more sultry quality. Rey shivered. He kissed the soft flesh of throat harder, eliciting a gasp of mirth.

“Oh, Ben – that's... _mmph..._ ”

“I'll also ask, to help supplement my research, that you tell me, in the moment, when something feels good, and especially if something hurts. Agreed?”

“Yes, if you agree to the same – just please, keep kissing me! Deep and hot like that, it feels so good...”

He attacked her neck and mouth with voracious appetite, palms and eager fingers squeezing her sides and hips, walking her backwards, nudging them closer and closer to her sleeping pallet.

“Kiss me – let me taste you-!” Rey gasped, pulling his mouth to hers. Ben's groan of delight stole her awareness and sense of self completely, so that when the back of her calves hit the pallet, it was a complete shock.

Rey collapsed with a yelp, Ben crashing down with her, their foreheads _smacking_ together on impact.

“ _Oh – Gods of Olympus!_ ” Ben groaned, sucking in a breath as Rey clutched her head, forehead throbbing.

“Ow...”

“Forgive me, Rey. Will you be alright?”

“I think so. The room isn't spinning, at least.”

“...Maybe...we shouldn't do this tonight...”

She blindly reached for his face and managed to cup his cheekbones.

“No – I'm fine, Ben. Please...I want to do this...” A quick breath.

“Yes? Not just...out of duty or...a sense of obligation to role, or to honor the Gods?” His awed gentility inspired a brilliant smile.

Even sightless, Rey could still find a lock of hair that was out of place, and tuck it behind one his adorable, prominent ears.

“I would've hoped by now to have made clear my complete and utter desire for you, Ben.”

His mouth consumed her, open and heated and heavy. A small, high sound escaped Rey, unbidden; a coo of want called up from the depths of her chest.

“Rey, darling...I've wanted this so dearly...” Ben's hands shifted to her shoulders, fingers grasping the clasps of her pale blue peplos. “May I?”

“Yes!” Rey gasped, pulse starting to pick up speed again. The brooches were twisted free of the fabric, Ben making short work of them, gravely voice whispering of secret desires.

“To experience this oneness with you, that height of pleasure, this infamous... _eros_...it's been haunting me...”

“Darling, you can't mean all that!” A peck, and he picked up his head, lifting his chest so he could attend to her waist and untether her belt.

“I do, my love, I do! Mortal woman you may be, but you've enchanted me as not even the God of Love's arrows could have!”

“And you me!” Rey exclaimed, sitting up, using Ben's arms to guide her hands in a trail to his face again, kissing him soundly.

He chortled her name in glee until she began to kiss down his neck as he'd done with her.

“ _Oauuurrrrrggghhhhh...Rey..._ ” The primordial growl went straight to her core, making her gasp, and she hastily helped Ben strip the rest of her clothes, bumping arms and elbows in the rush and apologizing profusely, her peplos and cloak falling to the floor in a heap.

“Sorry. Just a moment, you can get comfortable, love.”

Rey shifted up to the head of her pallet, resting her head on her pillows as she stared in the direction of the sound of rustling fabric. What she failed to realize was, in repositioning herself, she'd lain down directly in the shaft of moonlight that was coming in through her window.

Only after his tunic fell to join hers in ripple of cotton, and after Ben's intake of breath shook like he was shivering did the lunar spotlight occur to her. She felt her face flame.

“Do you find your wife to be pleasant to the eyes, husband?” A rush of air, and Ben was towering over her, boxing her in with his burly arms, kisses making her feverish.

“My darling wife – as if I could think of you as anything but wondrous! _Hrrmm!!_ ” he sucked a hard kiss into her neck and she keened. “Sweet Rey, tell me what you require of me, to help you ascend to that blissful state of glowing, ethereal pleasure.”

Rey blushed a shade darker.

“Well...I've only experimented with my body a handful of times before, but...I do quite like it when my breasts are coddled, like this...”

Rey demonstrated with her own hands, grasping her soft mounds and palming them in circular motions, tweaking her nipples and gently flicking the buds.

“You can't go wrong with being gentle...”

Ben sucked in a nervous breath.

“Okay. I'll try.” His bear paws tentatively replaced her own, and he tepidly imitated her movements.

Rey gasped out a laugh.

“Alright?” Ben exclaimed, voice high.

“Perfectly wonderful, my dear. Keep it up.” Her senses rolled on tides of slow, titillating pleasure, enough to build and stir, but not so much that she'd crash and fall. But it still conjured a few musical moans out of her, long, lovely ones that stole the breath from Ben's chest.

“Gods – Rey, my dear, the sounds of pleasure you make are _intoxicating_...”

“Ben, are you – _ooooooh –_ quite well? You should short of breath?”

“My, ugh, desire for you is a bit too heady and overbearing. I'm...trying in vain not to get...too excited...”

Rey mused, erudite despite the simmering pleasure.

“Forgive my crassness, but, by that do you mean you're approaching ejaculation?”

“ _HAH – Ah!_ ” Ben collapsed against her, his elbows colliding with her thighs as he came down, making Rey wince, the knees she'd parted to make space for him no longer aligned with his shoulders. “Dammit, no, _not yet!!_ ”

Rey bit her lip, staring baffled at the ceiling, her husband's face quite nearly _in_ her cleavage.

“Ben, it's alright-”

“Rey, my dear, I...” Ben drew a deep steadying breath “I want this to be perfect for you. Desperately. I didn't, I don't...I don't want to finish before we've even properly begun...”

“Does it take you some time for you to rise again after e-erm, release?” Rey tried again, optimistically using a more colloquial term this time, in the hopes of avoiding further excitement.

“Um, no. Not really, I'm actually quite responsive...in that regard,” Ben said, in a stilted rush.

“Then...why not enjoy yourself a bit? Then I can take all the time needed to show you how to bring me pleasure, and by the time I'm near release, you'll be good to...to...”

“Couple?” Ben offered, voice a bit thin.

“Yes!” Rey said, winded and chuckling.

“Well, I...” he sighed “I suppose...I just-”

“Sweetheart...”

She was getting rather good at this, finding his face on a whim.

“You care to learn my body. That is already a right more than many men, _noble_ men included, would care to do. So long as that desire to learn and to care for me is there, in time, we will learn how to do this expertly. That's all that really matters to _me_.”

The soft lips she'd come to adore molded against hers.

“You're a star among diamonds, Princess Rey.” Ben sighed. “Very well. I'll...show you what my body desires, I suppose.”

“It _is_ the piece of you I've yet to really explore...” Rey said, biting her bottom lip.

“Rey – _please_ -” he groaned.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I won't tease!! Here,” she held out her palm “guide my hand...”

His fingers invisibly encircled her wrist and lead her closer to where she knew his torso to be...

And suddenly connected with something wet.

“Oh!! Gods!” she yelped, yanking her hand back.

“I'm sorry!”

“No! No, I – is it supposed to be wet?”

“Just, um, just the tip of it...when I'm nearing my p-peak...it's just a bit of coupling fluid...”

“Oh! Oh...”

A beat of silence.

...And, collectively, they burst out laughing. Guffawing, boisterous laughter that went on for a good, long minute.

“Forgive me! I quite forgot-”

“It's alright, it's alright! I could've realized, without a bit of lubrication on both ends-”

“Hold on, you as well?”

Rey smiled shyly.

“Yes, Ben. In fact, I'd wager I'm closer to soaked at this point.”

“Really?” he breathed in wonder. Rey sat up a bit, parting her legs a bit more obtusely, spreading her lips with the fingers of her left hand, revealing the wet, heated, pink flesh within.

“Down here, past the folds of my sex, my vaginal opening leaks fluid to make the motion of coupling smooth,” she said, stroking a path from her clit down, to demonstrate and soothe her aching center. “So, I can easily just-”

Rey teased herself open with a finger, and readily slid it within.

“Beautiful...” Ben murmured, entranced for a moment by the sight of her pleasing herself, making Rey smile and blush. But, on further reflection, he swallowed roughly.

“Gods...I'd supposed to fit in _there?_ ”

“Well – yes. Why? What's wrong?” she said, extracting her finger after a single exploratory stroke.

“It's just that...I suppose it's best if I show rather than tell you. Can I have your hand again?”

“Of course.”

Expecting the bit of wetness this time, Rey wasn't as surprised when her fingers glanced over the flared head of his phallus, Ben directing her to palm the girth and stroke down the shaft. But the further she went...

“Oh...oh _Gods..._ ”

“You see the problem...”

“Heavens, you – you must be what, 18, 19 centimeters?! And so muscular and wide across – it's nearly as thick as my forearm!”

“I don't have to penetrate you if you do not wish it, Rey. The last thing I want is to harm or frighten you...”

“But I still want this – I still want you...” she murmured, longing, as she dragged her palm back up his length, fingers wrapped around him.

“ _Sweeeeet Rey..._ ” Ben moaned, and desire coiled tighter in her belly.

“Like this?” she gasped, repeating the motion, stroking up and down along the shaft.

“Yes – fuck, Rey, your hand feels so _good_. So small and sweet and perfect!!”

Her neck flared with heat at his wild abandon and his sailor curses.

“Goodness, Ben, really?”

“ _Yes!!_ ”

She kept up the motions and gently explored him with her free hand. The muscles of his groin were as strong as the rest of him, and the masculine dip of his hips and large, muscular thighs made her inner walls flutter. She stumbled upon his stones, and knowing of their sensitivity from childhood sports games with her brothers gone awry, she was very, very delicate with them.

“Massage them a little Rey, don't be shy...” Ben panted. She applied the tiniest hint of pressure more and Ben _moaned,_ head collapsing against her shoulder.

“Rey, I'm getting close...please stroke just a little faster – but don't tighten your grip! That's perfect!!”

Rey dutifully followed his requests, his noises undoing her and driving her desire to new heights.

“Rey, my princess! Tell me – tell me something I can do for you! For this piece of utter ambrosia!” Ben gasped.

Rey, lost to arousal, blurted out a sudden, embarrassing request.

“Use your mouth on my breasts! Gently s-suckle my nipples, a-and circle them with your tongue!” Her ministrations on his length slowed, fearful she'd said something odd, but Ben merely kissed down from his spot as her shoulder and dutifully obeyed.

Her cry to the heavens made his hips jerk and his phallus jut into her hand, but she picked up speed again, and Ben groaned in the onslaught.

His dexterous tongue lapped pleasure from her rosy peaks, and she was carried along the raging rapids, paddle-less.

Quickly however, in the transition from attending one breast to another, Ben began chanting her name like a prayer. He only suckled her left nipple for a swift moment or before he released it with a wet pop, and buried his face in her neck.

“Yes – _yes! –_ REY!”

The ribbons of warm seed did not stay invisible as they left Ben's body. They burst free from under his cloak and coated Rey's abdomen milky-white, some spilling onto the pallet, and a bit on Rey's hands as well.

Curious, Rey sniffed at the substance on her knuckle.

“Hmmm...something that hints of olive oil...and maybe grapes?”

“Hah...yes, I've noticed that too. My, my seed – tends to carry the essence of – whatever I ate. Sorry – for the mess,” Ben gasped, catching his breath, forehead lifting from her shoulder.

“It's alright. I expected as much to occur. Mixing of male and female fluids to procreate, and all that.”

“Yes, quite. Let me fetch you a towel.”

Upon retrieving the large article from her room's bureau, he mopped up the spend considerately, the gentle strokes of the woolen fabric against her abdomen tickling her briefly.

“Now, then,” he said, after he'd set the cloth on the edge of the porcelain tub for later washing. “What other treasures does your body conceal?”

Her face must have turned bright red.

“ _Ben-_ ”

“Show me, darling...” A kiss on her smiling lips.

“Sit behind me, dearest, cradle me with your legs,” Rey said, pulling herself from the pillows and shifting closer to the middle of the pallet.

Ben was a warm, welcome presence at her back, and she let herself gently fall against his broad chest, spreading her legs as she went.

“You used your fingers down here, yes?” Ben whispered in her ear, his hands running down from her breasts, over her rib cage, stomach, abdomen and thighs, before lightly resting over her heated sex.

“Y-yes. Everything down there, within my folds, feels good to touch. But-” her hands shot down to cover his large palms. “You have to be very gentle with some things. This-” she led his index finger to her nub “This, my clitoris, is the most sensitive part of my body. Only gentle pressure can coax pleasure from it – too much and it turns into pain.”

Ben took a deep breath.

“Gods...okay, how?”

“Little circles, like this,” she demonstrated, and almost immediately had to bite back a moan. His fingers were so large and lovely. “And if need be, keep-” she dragged a line from cunt to clit “bringing up lubrication from my opening to keep things nice and wet. That's keeps things comfortable and p-pleasurable...” she stuttered, starting to grow heated under his fingers.

“...And,” he said, breath starting to catch again “within your tunnel? Can that feel pleasurable as well?”

“Inside, against the upper wall. I-I'll show you in a moment, just k-keep circling and rubbing like that! _Mmmmm!_ ”

She melted.

Ben, hesitant creature that he was, kept everything slow and even, not daring to change speed or style. Even this subtle motion brought on tides of lovely, caressing pleasure, and Rey rode them, joyously.

“A-and, you can do this, as well!” She lead the index and middle finger of his left hand to her outer lips “Squeezing like this-” she pressed down on the fleshy walls, “pleasures that little n-nub of nerves indirectly – just as wonderfully – _Oh Gods!!_ ”

“Sweet Rey, my darling, my wife!” Ben exclaimed, rapturous. She feel him hardening behind her all over again, erection rising against the base of her spine, and that only excited her more.

“Ben!! Please, circle faster!”

“Like this?”

His fingers sloshed around her pearl, pressure staying exquisite, and Rey arched back against him, moaning her affirmation.

“Gods, you're gorgeous! You ardent, precious thing! I can't wait to see you unravel!!”

A moment or two more, under his large fingers, and Rey's inner walls began to pulse.

“Ben – Ben, I'm getting there! Darling, I need you now!!” she keened with abandon, not caring if she sounded demanding or needy. His strokes slowed to a stop and he kissed her cheek.

“In a moment, my dear. But first, I need to learn your walls. May I?”

A finger strayed lower to press against her opening, and Rey nodded her assent. He began to push in-

A sharp jolt of pain.

“ _Aah_ _!_ No, stop!” She seized his hand.

“Oh Gods, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-”

“Ben, all is well. It's just that your fingers are thicker than my own and you went in at the wrong angle.” She mimed the motion with her left hand as she explained.

“Don't simply push straight. Think of it as curling up and in more than pushing in – and move in pulses. Go a bit, then stop. Pull out a bit, then push in further than before, and so on.”

“Okay...”

Slowly, but surely, Ben did just as she asked, his finger eventually seated to the third knuckle within her.

“Gods...you're even warmer and wetter within...” Ben panted.

“Now, curl your finger against the upper wall, the one your fingertip is already touching.” Ben crooked his finger ever-so-slightly. She huffed a laugh.

“You can do a bit more than that, Ben! Those walls within are very soft and flexible and can withstand enormous pressure! They don't feel pain from it, only-” he pressed down firmly on her g-spot.

“ _pleasure!_ Oh Ben!”

“Like that, my love?”

“Yes! Now stroke as you would when coupling with me, massage that wall!”

In under a minute, Rey was crying out in elation.

“ _You exquisite creature!!_ ” Ben growled, drunk off the pleasure he was giving his wife, as he'd been off the pleasure he'd received from her. “Tell me what you need to prepare yourself for me! _Tell me, love!_ ” he keened.

“S-stop, a-and add a second finger! Push your index finger to the left wall, hard, to make space for your middle!”

“Hard? Are you sure?!”

“It's the ring of muscle at the entrance that are prone to pain and discomfort from stretching, Ben. Within, only too much friction can make me sore.”

He did as commanded, and slowly worked her more and more open.

“Sweetheart, your flexibility borders on _miraculous_...” He crooked his middle finger just the same, and Rey felt her pleasure ratcheting higher with each stroke, approaching that mountain's peak.

“Need – need you! _Ben!!_ ” she whined, and he was quick to extract his fingers and circle her body, resting between her parted legs.

“Tell me if you feel any pain, love,” he gasped, turgid length resting against her hipbone, a clear sign he was ready as well.

“Just curve inside like you did with your fingers, and I should be fine,” Rey gasped, helping him shift his hips into proper alignment with her.

Before he took the plunge, Ben leaned down to kiss her, murmuring words of adoration and comfort, putting her at ease.

The first inch made her scream.

“ _REY-!_ ” he cried, heart bleeding.

“DON'T PULL OUT!” she heaved, taking deep, deep breaths. “Just need – to get past – the rough part – at the entrance. You're doing fine...”

He withdrew a bit, only to impale her further once she said she was ready. She was still huffing air, but her brow was less tight with pain.

“Better, darling. Keep going.”

Inch by inch, push by push, eventually Ben found himself hilted within his wife.

It was only when her screams had turned to happy little pants, and her frown transformed into a smile, that his phallus became aware of how her body _felt_.

“Rey...” his sweaty forehead came to rest against hers, gentle. “Rey, my love...you're so _tight_...Gods, I can barely _stand_ how silken and warm and delicious the feeling is.”

She gasped a laugh.

“And you...from the pressure you put on my walls alone, the wondrous stretch...when you start to move I'll surely combust from the massage of my walls!”

“I believe, Rey, that that is the aim...” She chortled at his gentle ribbing, belly jumping. Ben cried out, the sound an intoxicating, broken whine.

“You – you – you _squeezed_ me...” he gasped. She grinned.

“Then I believe, it's time to complete this coupling.”

Ben gently rocked his hips back, and Rey arched her back so beautifully, it took all his willpower not to explode on the spot. So he focused on her, on setting his hips to nudge against that upper wall, and instinct took him the rest of the way, finding a rhythm and a comfortable cadence.

“Gods, Ben!!”

“Good, my love?” he grunted. Her face, half buried in the wool-stuffed pallet, flushed with desire, was the most beautiful sight.

“ _AAH! Mmmhh!!_ It's _eros_ , _pure, amazing_ eros _!_ ”

“ _ **Gods above!**_ ”

Her crying his true name in ecstasy was more than he could bear. His hips snapped to hers harder and quicker, losing restraint. He huffed and groaned her name, yearning and chasing. The sound of her keens drowned his senses completely – all of existence was _eros_ , nothing but _eros_ , and before he knew it, he seed was bursting forth, orgasm roaring through him.

But in the midst of his release, all senses not experiencing pleasure dead to the world, one sound wormed its way into his subconscious.

“ _Almost there!!_ ” He shook his head roughly and forced himself back down to earth.

“Dammit – Rey, what do you need to orgasm?!”

“ _M-my clit!_ ”

His thumb rushed her aid, its press light on the apex of her little, heated flower, but the circles fast, insistent.

When she cried his name, and her walls tensed down hard on his phallus, in spite of his softening state, he saw stars.

He rubbed her pearl further, hoping to prolong the delicious shuddering of her wall, her gorgeous, ecstatic cries, until she seized his hand.

“That'll do, my love...” she heaved.

“Was that too much?”

“Approaching over-sensitivity. You can reach that state as well?”

“Yes. A few too many strokes past release, and pleasure morphs into pain.”

“With my releases, you can usually continue for half a minute more. The residual pulses are lovely. But beyond that...”

Ben huffed, reaching down to smooth Rey's hair off of her sweaty, gorgeous forehead.

He puffed out a laugh.

“Though, according to Ovid, women _are_ capable of more than one release, consecutively.”

“My darling husband – not tonight!” Rey exclaimed, chortling. Ben joined in, chuckles matching her fervor as he gently extracted himself from her Elysian flower.

“Any chance you can reach the towel on the tub?” Ben asked, from his imprint on the bed, voice muffled by the stuffed pallet.

“Not without rising, but...I think I have just enough strength...”

Rey stood and retrieved the towel for more clean-up, but arriving back to the bed on shaky legs, she stumbled and fell to the pallet.

“ _Ooof!!_ ”

“BEN! I'm so sorry-!” But her husband only laughed louder.

“You'll have to do a bit more than that to do me injury, Rey!”

The large towel cleaned them both, and Rey skillfully folded it so all the mess was inside, placing it beside the pallet at a spot they were unlikely to walk near.

They fell to the sheets together, Ben quick to draw the blanket up to Rey's bare shoulders, his bride giggling with affection.

“You're well, then?” he asked, thumb resting warm on her cheek and stroking loving patterns.

“I suspect I'll be sore in the morning...” she said, half-grin, half-grimace.

“I'm sorry...” he murmured softly.

“Worry not, my dear. In a day or two I should be just fine and...perhaps we could do this again?”

Ben sighed, and Rey was surprised by the noise's despondency.

“I couldn't hold myself back.” At the sight of her drawn brow, Ben explained further. “Even with one extra release, I was still too eager. I couldn't wait until you reached ecstasy.”

“Ben, sweetheart...that doesn't matter to me.” Her hand mirrored the actions of his, pleased by the coarse sensation of slight stubble she found there.

“No?”

“No. You attended to my needs, as you promised, and experienced pleasure under my ministrations too. _That's_ what matters, our common enjoyment, not simultaneous release.”

He kissed her lips, absent of an ability to smile to wordlessly convey his gratitude.

“Still, I'd like to work on my stamina.”

“Well...we have all the time in the world, do we not?” Ben chuckled, pressing the sound against her mischievous lips.

“Rey, my little nymph! I never would have guessed your appetite would be _this_ voracious!”

She smiled, genuine and gentle.

“Only for my dear husband...”

And in that moment, he, Eros, God of Love, was a goner for this mortal woman.

She possessed his heart and soul, and now his body as well.

There was no going back.

Not even if he was terrified of how she might react to the sight of his Godly face.

~*~*~*~

Rey's letter inviting Poe and Finn to the palace was picked up by Zephyr for delivery the very next day.

“Swift though I may be, Princess Rey, I'm afraid I won't be able to deliver this and bring your brothers here sooner than five days time.”

“That's quite alright, West Wind Zephyr,” said Rey, smiling at the deity's translucent form. “Ben and I won't mind a few more days just to ourselves.”

“Newly-wedded bliss, I take it?” the God said, smirking, one eyebrow cocked in question as he glanced at the stone band on Rey's finger.

“...Something like that,” she grinned.

In truth, the pair made excellent use of their time before their guests arrival. Between playing with the wild kittens and pups in the menagerie, practicing lyre together, and debating their favored philosophy, they spent many hours in bed, or laid out on a couch in the sitting room, or elsewhere, thoroughly investigating _eros_.

The pair was quick to learn that kissing each other most anywhere felt good – particularly licking and suckling one another's sexes felt divine.

Ben's tenderness led him to learn just how both physically pleasant and arousing Rey found the massaging and kissing of her thighs. Rey's adventurousness led to the discovery of Ben's nipples proving to be just as erogenous a spot on his body as on her own.

They made love in the baths in the hot water, in Ben's room, up against walls, in a variety of configurations of their bodies – Rey astride, Ben above and clasping the underside of her knees, laying on their sides, Ben standing behind, his chest pressed against Rey's back.

All brought on a new kind of friction, a new depth, a new shiver or warble or cataclysmic earthquake of pleasure.

And they treasured each and every exquisite release and loving kiss, laughing often, screaming more.

Rey couldn't imagine a more perfect existence. Her marriage was truly blessed.

She was in a state of utmost joy when her brothers arrived to the palace, embracing them heartily, Ben standing respectfully a few paces back.

“It's so good to see you both!” Rey muttered, words soaked with affection as she squeezed their shoulders.

“And you, little sister,” said Poe, his grin not quite reaching his eyes.

“Thank the Gods, you seem to be in good health,” Finn assessed, looking Rey up and down.

Her brow dipped.

“Why would I not be, brother?”

“Any chance we might get to meet your new suitor, any time soon?” Poe struck up, gaze amiable and mild.

“He's just inside,” Rey said, still a bit perplexed, glancing over her shoulder.

Before Finn could fully articulate his question of “Where?” Ben spoke.

“Greetings, prince-regents of Delphi. You may call me Ben. It is an honor to meet you at last,” he said, voice melodious as ever.

Finn and Poe froze in their tracks, expressions identical pictures of pursed confusion.

Poe spoke up first.

“You're betrothed is...invisible?”

“Yes. It's to shield my mortal eyes from his true form. We're working on arrangements as we speak to gain protection for my eyes so that I might finally see him,” Rey said, with confident ease.

Finn, meanwhile, the more perceptive of her two siblings, a gift he possessed from speaking a little less and observing a little more, was not fixated on the empty air where Ben's voice had emanated from, but on Rey's hand.

“But if my mortal eyes do not deceive me...he is not your betrothed anymore,” he said, pointing at the stone ring on her right hand.

Rey grinned, and lifting her hand, showing off the ring to Poe, her brother's jaw falling open.

“What?! When?!”

“A few days ago. That's why we've invited you here-” Ben's pinkie entwined with hers, and she didn't even jump.

“To celebrate our union,” he finished, lovely, low voice, right next to her ear.

Finn's surprise melted into a soft smile, Poe still remaining wide-eyed and bewildered.

The pair had a litany of questions for them all throughout lunch, which the pair were only too happy to answer.

The longer the conversation of 'why' went on however, the more Rey began to notice a darker quality enter the eyes of both her brothers.

She'd seen such expressions on their faces only when they were sitting in on trade deals with former enemy states.

So it was that the siblings retired from lunch with their wine in-hand to the sitting room, Ben giving them space to catch up, his parting kiss to Rey a gentility she clung to. For her hackles were raised.

She knew well when a storm was brewing amongst the closest people in her life.

Poe set his goblet of wine on the wooden end-table with dramatic force, a bit of the dark red liquid sloshing over the lip.

“Little sister, have you lost your senses?!”

“Brother, please, let us not turn a matter of love into an ugly battle-”

“Rey...” Finn's low baritone caught her attention, ripping her gaze from Poe.

“Et tu, brother?” Rey murmured, setting aside her cup, her saddened gaze piercing Finn through.

After all, he was the middle child, the forgotten child. Without Rey as his rock, his back-up in the schoolyard, he wouldn't be half as confident, as leader-like as he was today.

“Rey, it's not a question of your judgment-”

“It is absolutely a question of her judgment!”

“ _Poe –_ it's a matter of time. You've known this man for six months, and you decide to marry him?!”

“Has it really only been that long?” Rey marveled “It feels as if a year has already passed, at least. We've learned so much about one another, grown together-”

“Even so, Rey, no priestess officiant, no warning, no witnesses?”

“The Gods were our witnesses, Finn. It happened in broad daylight. His Majesty Zeus could have smited us both on the spot if he disapproved, and the Queen of Heaven, Divine-Mother of Marriages, would have given the order!” Rey said, gesticulating skyward. “But here we are, right as rain, not a scratch on me.”

“Rey, love or not, monster that even the _Gods_ fear or not, you don't know who he is!” Poe implored.

“On the contrary brother, _you_ do not know Ben. I'm the one who's lived with him for half a year!”

“And you didn't find it suspicious that he _refused_ to let you see his face?” Finn countered.

“Of course I did! But the more we spoke, the more I understood why. And it's not some empty promise he has made to me to someday show his face-” she said, striding towards her brother and closing the gap between them “He swore it before the Gods, on the _River Styx_ as we were making our vows!”

“How can you know he was telling the truth without seeing his face as he spoke?” Poe implored “You're missing out on an entire system of transparent communication, Rey.”

“I know what a man besotted, a man snared by deceit looks _and_ sounds like, brother,” she said, eyes burning “I know Ben has spoken the truth. I _know_ he loves me.”

“But do you love him?” asked Finn.

The question was so unexpected, it shocked her into silence for a moment.

“What kind of an absurd question is that? Of course I do!”

“Have you told him so?”

“Yes, I...” Rey was prepared to charge forward with her defense, pride a rearing stallion. But then she paused, reflecting.

...And it was, with great melancholy, that she realized, for all her declarations of love in other ways, she had not spoken those words to Ben, declared that sacred truth.

“...Don't you think that's telling?” Poe said, shaking Rey from her musing.

“What do you mean?”

Finn met his brother's eyes and exchanged a conspiratory look.

“If you truly love him, what's stopping you from telling him?”

“I just...haven't felt the need, I suppose. I've told Ben how I feel in other ways, with other words.”

“You can lie to yourself, sister, but you can't lie to us,” Poe said, cutting her to the quick, arms crossed over his chest “On some subliminal level, in spite of what you say, you don't trust your new husband.”

“After all, how can you? How can you tell that he's really just an ordinary demigod when you don't have physical evidence to support it?” Finn pressed.

“How do you know he's not manipulating you without knowing exactly what he's capable of?” Poe wheedled.

Rey began to back away, wilting under the searing gazes of her brothers working on a united front.

“I...I don't. But my heart has never led me astray.”

“And why would he want to marry you so quickly?” Poe speculated.

“Indeed, brother. If it was love, born of admiration and respect, he would have waited to do things on her terms, waited for a priestess and guests, to do the whole thing properly...” Finn added, rubbing his chin in thought.

“It has to have been a bid for power,” Poe concluded.

Rey gawked at the pair, backwards movement freezing.

“NO!”

“Rey, see reason!”

“You see reason, you reckless centurion!” she snapped, Poe's mouth clamping shut, insulted

“What use has a demigod for Delphi – especially when any husband of mine would not be king, but king-consort? A title with virtually no power – certainly not enough to displace me!”

“...Not so long as you're alive...” Finn prodded.

“ _You take that back right now-_ ”

“ _Could he,_ Rey? Consider the possibility, just for a moment!”

Rey laughed, disdainful and baffled.

“If he only wanted me for my title, Finn, he would've had the extravagant royal wedding you're suggesting – with thousands of witnesses to its legality! A contract between lovers, one that only the Gods can attest to the authenticity of; there's nothing there that the Senate would seriously put stock in! And even if, madness the suggestion is, he _wanted_ me dead, he would've done it already!! He's had _dozens_ of opportunities! We've lain together often enough, and shared a bed even longer!!”

The pair went mute, eyes wide as saucers.

“Rey, you...you seriously gave your maidenhood to him?” Finn asked. Rey threw her hands skyward.

“He's my _husband_ and I _love_ him! _Would_ _ **you**_ _have done any differently?!_ ”

With a bark of hysterical laughter, Rey sat down beside her forgotten wine glass and took a long slow draught, easing her high-strung nerves and burying her face in her hands afterwards.

Someone kneeled down beside her, pressing their palm to her knee, and when Rey picked up her head, she was not at all surprised that had been Finn who'd come to her side.

“Please understand Rey, we're in shock. We're not trying to antagonize your husband – truly. We're just trying to understand how and why this happened so fast.”

“We worry for you, sister,” Poe added, approaching solemnly, his eyes containing the sorrow of apology, even if his words didn't.

“I know, Poe,” she said, extending her hand to him in an act of forgiveness, her brother taking it as her other hand went to cover Finn's on her knee.

“Still...it is rather remarkable that you've shown such restraint,” Poe said, the glimmer of humor that was _his_ Gods-given talent returning to his eyes. “I mean, you've slept beside him and voluntarily chosen _not_ to unveil him? Unless it's some sort of spell?”

Rey laughed, releasing his hand and swatting it playfully.

“None of your business what it is! And since when have I been incapable of showing restraint?”

Finn cocked his head, lips pursed in thought.

“Trying wine before your fifteenth birthday...”

“Playing war games with the boys' school even though Plutt forbade it-”

“Oh, that one time you jumped in the Adriatic Sea, even though it was still the Ides of March?”

“Kissing that track and field athlete who was _way_ below your station just because he had, and I quote 'kissable lips'-”

“Alright, _alright!!_ ”

The group broke out into the peals of laughter, the brothers eyes taking on a gleam of respect and calm where before there had been only turmoil.

“You've done well for yourself, Rey,” said Finn, patting her on the knee “It's not every Princess that can capture the heart of a demigod.”

“Only your kid-sister, brother, and don't you forget it!”

They laughed as if they had not a care in the world, but fate had been sealed.

Though the brothers left after the full day had been spent with their sister, and a decent piece with her husband in tow as well, destiny had long since been spoken for.

She asked to sleep in their separate rooms tonight. _To avoid temptation_ , she dared not say.

For the seed had been planted, and the nasty nettle taken root.

But it was not a seed of doubt. Far from it.

Rey had decided quite some time ago, that she was content to have a 'monster' for a husband, if he would always care for her like this.

No, the seed that had taken root in Rey's heart and burrowed deep was one of hunger.

A hunger to know, a thirst for knowledge forbidden. A hunger that slowly starved her from within as the hours grew long and the hour late.

For Rey ached to know. The pining was unbearable, such was its ferocity. It was the final piece of the puzzle, the one remaining mystery concerning the man she most ardently loved, and the uncertainty, the doubt, left her nearly breathless with longing.

It was now that she understood the misery of Orpheus, walking out of the Underworld, unable to turn back, armed with only the promise of the King of the Dead, and flimsy the hope that his wife walked at his heals.

And for all Ben's truths, two turns of phrase made the wondering long and relentlessly ravenous.

_You may call me Ben, if it pleases you..._

'May call', he'd said. He had never said that Ben _was_ his name.

And when they'd spoken their sacred vows, he'd stuttered. Hesitated.

He'd stumbled over _his own name_ , the piece of himself he should know better than anything.

She could attribute it to nerves, if only he'd stuttered at any other point of the ceremony. But he'd spoken the words perfectly, with confidence and utter rapture.

They were two little turns of phrase, but her yearning devoured them and only grew stronger in the dark of night.

She counted sheep, stars, listed the names of the Gods of the Pantheon, the Titans, the Giants, Dryads, Naiads, and the Old Ones, but nothing settled her restless mind or aching heart.

The longing worked its way from the hollow of her chest, digging a pit in her stomach, and filling up her limbs until her nerves were vibrating with doubt from her head down to her toes.

Electrified with such energy, she had no choice but to rise, light the oil lamp beside her pallet, seize the golden holder, and let the orange, guttering flame guide her down the darkness of the corridor to the entrance of her husband's bedchamber.

**Author's Note:**

> All comments and constructive critiques are greatly appreciated! <3


End file.
